


Trapped in my mind

by Cummie_commie



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Original Character(s), Shameless Smut, Thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cummie_commie/pseuds/Cummie_commie
Summary: Tord is stuck living the same night over and over again as if getting knocked out triggered a sick and twisted groundhog day.
Relationships: Tom/Tord (Eddsworld)
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

Tord groaned rubbing his head, where was he? The Norsk couldn't remember much other than being socked in the face by that 'fucking brit'. Tord sat up and stretched, he was in a musty place, he had to be glad he didn't have breathing problems. The place itself was grand, abandoning the confused Norsk for a second, it was almost like a mansion elegant and lavish, although covered in dust. Tord stood up finally noticing his costume change, he was wearing a small cloak that perched itself on the worn shoulders of his collared shirt and dapper striped vest with gold buttons. Tord glanced around the room, a lamp? Tord reached out and touched it only for it to light on contact. Is he in a coma? What is happening?! Tord pushed his worried thoughts to the side, 'when I wake up Tom is gonna get it!' Though he didn't have time to plan what that entailed. The Norwegian went cold at the sight of a wolf-like beast that guarded his escape despite it not even being aware of his presence. The ice-blue-eyed man fell silent, not even his thoughts could be heard. These two were at a standstill. Tord gulped and silently tried to sneak past only to anger the beast in front of him. The beast lurched toward the noise, landing its claws in the poor Norsk. "Jesus knuller!" He cussed in his native tongue. Tord's heart slammed into the floor rattling his ribs and causing him to shake in fear. The beast didn't hesitate to sink its teeth into his shoulder, the silver-eyed man screamed in pain. The man scratched and pulled at the beast's wolf-like head getting the dirt and blood that clotted the beast's fur under his nails. Tord's body went numb, his eyes glossed over like a plastic doll, his arms limp like a marionette without its strings, and then, as if he didn't exist at all, he disappeared in a blue mist.


	2. Wait, I've Just Been Vibin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Dear Hunter Gets Geared Up For His First Battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titled by a dear friend, love you PogChamp<3

Tord wasn’t dead, no this fate was much worse…  
He was greeted by a doll-like version of his mom, she looked frail and almost brittle.   
“Mom?” Tord teared up, he hadn’t seen her since,, the Norsk shook his head. “...mom?” He seemed almost heartbroken voice cracking at every vowel, but the mystic women didn’t answer, almost like she didn’t see him. Tord sniffled almost like his world had been shattered, like he would crumble at any second,,.

“Your eyes,, they’re... “ Tord stopped as if mere mentioning how glossy her eyes were would shatter his existence. He sighed holding back pained tears “I love you Mommy” he whispered.   
On a brighter note there were a few tools on a gallant stairway leading to a closed door, it was an elegant spectacle to say the least. The place was almost like a peaceful dream filled with that blue mist that seemed to engulf his dying body. It was beautiful, even the tombstones that laced the garden seemed to make death itself gorgeous. Tord dried his pathetic attempt to hold back grief of his mom’s death. 

“,,,Axe? Cane?? Saw???” The Norsk called out the name of his options to himself almost in disbelief. The Axe seemed to call to the Commie, the way the blue mist swirled around the already bloodied Axe creating an almost soothing purple. A few bandages wrapped themselves lazily around the handle stained with what looked like decades of dirt and gore, to the ice-blue eyed man this only enthralled him more.  
Tord picked up the Axe with miniscule precision, as if he’d never held a melee weapon in his life.   
The Mist consumed the abandoned weapons making the Norwegian’s decision final, but it seemed to wait for him to choose, or more so pick up the other items that laid themselves on the refined stone staircase, it was begging for Tord to admire it, setting itself apart from the grimdark fairytale almost purposefully. Tord reached his hand to the enchanchanting mist that engulfed a polished Blunderbuss. The metal was smooth under his fingers, almost like the trigger was made for him, it was creepily comforting. The Norwegian slid the bulky shooting iron into a gun holster that seemed to be worn by time despite him just getting it,, or rather woke up with it.  
Tord still had a few items left to pick up off the ground, like time before his clunky fingers grasped at the tattered and discolored leather of a notebook,, notebook? Tord snorted;  
“Yeah let me just stop fighting to write a beastarity” save that wasn’t what the point of the notebook.   
The Nork’s attention was soon drawn to the bell? A bell? The man erupted into laughter over the bell that laid before him, freshly polished lookin’ pretty too. Tord wrapped his fingers around the lustrous Cardinal Wood handle that could slip out of his graceless hands if he wasn’t careful. He gave the bell a soft ring and was disappointed to be greeted with an almost thick silence;  
“The prettiest thing here and it doesn’t work! How do you even break a bell” He huffed biting his lip in intrigue. Tord’s fingernails grazed over the highly embellished silver shoulders of the bell, it was almost intimate with how the Norsk caressed the bell’s waist. Once the ice-blue eyed man was satisfied with his stoking of the bell he shoved it into his pocket.  
Tord smiled to himself as he gathered an inelegant pistol from the blue mist, it was almost nothing compared to his Corpse-Bride fantasy landscape.  
The hunter was set, Axe in hand and a psychopathic attitude in mind that Beast didn’t stand a chance,,   
Tord used the first Tombstone to teleport to the building the Beast resided in, he smiled as his heart-rate picked up, he was already lost to the thrill of the hunt and he hadn’t even seen the beast!  
Bump-Bump Bump Bump-Bump  
It was akin to watching a cat hunt, the way Tord stood straighter almost on edge as his adrenaline kicked in, they meet again,, a stand still once again.  
Bump-Bump-Bump  
Tord growled strangling the handle of his Axe causing the wood to splinter under his grip. The Beast looked over to Tord and went on guard circling Tord like he was fresh meat, like he was a six-year-old quivering and crying for their mom. Tord was ready though, as soon as the Beast bounded at him. Tord was knocked to the floor staggering him but he still managed to shove his Axe’s grip into the Beast’s mouth causing it to choke on the flimsy oak wood.  
Tord gathered his strength before pushing the Beast off entirely and with the help of being blood drunk he swung into action and decapitated the Beast with a swift. I’ll be it careless strike.


End file.
